Read Doggone Dead Online

Authors: Teresa Trent

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Animals

Doggone Dead (14 page)

“Good question, darlin’,” my dad said from behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“You are full of surprises, Betsy,” said Tory, sitting up straight in her chair.

“And you’re good at judging beauty, Tory. I just felt totally inadequate at the job. I hope I didn’t mess things up.”

“On the contrary. I’ve been judging beauty pageants in this area for the last twenty years, and I can tell you I have never heard anyone shut the parents up before. That little girl showed true grace under pressure, a quality every beauty queen must have. Good job.”

I was amazed I had done something right. I looked over at Leo sitting with Tyler and Zach. They all gave me a thumbs-up.

“Where’s Aunt Maggie and Danny?” I asked, looking around.

“Danny isn’t doing too good after the parade yesterday. He had trouble sleeping and kept telling Maggie he saw Charlie Loper. They’re spending the day at home, watching High School Hijinks on the television and staying cool. They’re going to try and make it to the fireworks tonight.”

Had I become so desensitized to being shot at that I didn’t even think about the effect it would have on Danny? When things really scared him, he could just shut down. He didn’t understand everything that was going on, so rather than try he would take himself out of the picture. After my uncle died, he didn’t want to go to the funeral. We left him with a friend and his parents, and they played video games while we buried his father.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. We’ll stop by on the way home and bring him a hot dog and some cotton candy,” I said. “Oh, and I need to talk with you about something. Something I figured out from the pictures.”

“From what pictures?” he asked, but then Stan returned to the stage holding a white card. “Okay, Pecanites. We have a winner of the Miss Watermelon crown.” Stan looked over at the gathering of nervous little girls. “And the winner is...Nora...” From behind us, the sound of a soulful cowboy song was coming out of the loudspeakers, overtaking Stan’s announcement. It was eerie-sounding – and then a voice spoke though the undertones of a guitar strum.

“Howdy, buckaroos and buckarettes. This is your old pal Charlie Loper. I don’t think some of you’ve been livin’ the cowboy way.” Sparks started shooting out of the port-a-potty I had been trapped in.  With a giant explosion, its blue plastic door blasted off its hinges and flew right toward us. I crawled under the judges’ table with Tory Parker.

As soon as the door landed, the structure stood on its side, altered by the explosion. Luckily there didn’t seem to be any inhabitants at the time of the blast.

Dad rushed out from under the table just as the crowd started pulling themselves out from under their folding metal chairs. Leo came running toward me with Zach and Tyler running along behind.

“Betsy!” he yelled. “Where are you?” I crawled out from the under the tablecloth, red garland strewn in my hair.

“Hiding under here in the flying outhouse safe zone,” I said.

Leo reached down and helped me up. “Thank God. What is it with you and port-a-potties today?”

“Yeah, well, this time I don’t think it was just me. It was the ghost of Charlie Loper, taking vengeance on the entire town.”

“No, Betsy. Either you’re really unlucky, or someone is after you. Look at the facts, you’ve been shot at twice, and now …”

“The would-be victim of a port-a-potty explosion,” I said dryly. I was coming to the creeping conclusion that I had been face-to-face with the killer some time in the last weeks and let something slip.

Libby Loper ran up onto the stage, today dressed in a white top and jean skirt with white boots. She tipped back her Stetson and picked up the microphone.

“Is this thing on?” she said, making half the crowd cover their ears. “Sorry, but I just needed to say something to  whoever this is playing like they are my dear departed father. It’s all lies. My father was a good man and would never, ever harm a single soul. When they catch this person, I will be suing them for slander. They are ruining his reputation and breaking my heart.” Libby put the microphone back and slowly walked off the stage. I reached out for her as she passed by.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She just nodded her head in disgust and walked back into the crowd.

“Wow, that was so cool,” Zach said, pointing to the bent plastic port-a-potty door now lying next to the runway.

My dad walked up with police from Andersonville on each side of him. “Leo, could you get my daughter out of here?”

“Dad! I am standing right here, and I can get myself home, thank you.”

“Leo?” my dad, repeated issuing a command this time. Leo took a protective hold under my arm, and I barely grabbed my purse as we exited the fairgrounds.

“Wait! I wanted to get Danny some cotton candy,” I said, pulling free.

“Oh, all right, just because it’s for Danny,” said Leo. I went to the window of the cotton candy trailer and ordered a blue one for my cousin. After Zach and Tyler noticed what I was doing, I ordered a couple more.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to my dad about what I had figured out from the pictures. I had to make some time to either talk to him or to go back out and see if I could find what I thought I was seeing.

“Ready?” said Leo.

“Yes,” I answered. “If we could just run this by Aunt Maggie’s on the way home before it melts, it would really help Danny. He got pretty shook up from the shooting yesterday.”

Zach spoke over his blue cotton candy, his face now starting to resemble Papa Smurf. “Did you know a poodle was shot dead, right in the middle of Main Street? You should have seen it.”

We all piled into Leo’s SUV. He turned the key and then turned to me and cocked his head. “Betsy? How do you get into all these messes? It’s absolutely risky to care for a person who is constantly getting shot at or locked in a port-a-potty. Is your life ever boring?”

“My life is just like anyone else’s, it’s just it’s been a little hectic this week.”

“Little more than hectic.”

“Well, you didn’t have to come down here. You could have just stayed in Dallas,” I snapped.

That set the tone in the car, and not in a good way. I felt a pounding headache coming on, probably from sitting in the heat wearing an extra twenty pounds and nearly dying in the port-a-potty. I stripped off the jacket and started unbuttoning my blouse to pull off the bulletproof vest.

Leo looked over and then spoke to the boys. “Close your eyes, boys.”

I looked over to see both boys with their eyes covered.

“Take that thing off. No wonder you’re so hot.”

I pulled off the Velcro fasteners and felt the rush of air conditioning hit my exposed skin. I sighed and then looked over to see Leo, barely watching the road. He swerved slightly.

“Uh, sorry.”

I smiled and buttoned up my blouse again. When we got to Aunt Maggie’s, Leo volunteered to run in the cotton candy and we then we headed for home.

“Do you feel okay? You’re starting to look pale,” he said.

“I’m fine, just need an ibuprofen,” I yawned.

“And maybe a nap,” Leo said, the trace of a smile playing on his lips.

“Mom, you can’t have a headache. We have to go to the fireworks tonight!” In all the excitement, I had forgotten that the Fourth of July was one of those days that can last into eternity.

“Tell you what,” Leo said as we walked into the house, “you take a nap and the boys and I will figure out something to eat. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” I said, yawning.

After taking an ibuprofen with a cold glass of water I shut my eyes and tried to get all the scenes from the last week from playing in mind.  Hunter Grayson's body kept flashing in along with the vibrant blue of the inside of the port-a-potty.  Charlie Loper kept appearing on the balcony and then disappearing.  Butch kept running away, ready to navigate to streets of Pecan Bayou.  My cell phone rang in my purse by the bed. I rummaged around for it, and Rocky Whitson’s number shone across the electric screen.

“Yo, Betsy. I'm heading back to the office.  Got some fine shots of the blown-up outhouse.  I hate to be asking this of you, but with all that happened today, I didn’t get a picture of you and Miss Watermelon. Could you possibly come down to the Gazette for a quick photo op? I’ve already lined up Miss Watermelon and her mother.”

“Rocky, really?  You haven't exactly done me too many favors lately.”

“Betsy, I also may hae something more on your dad's investigation.” Rocky said.

“I'm on my way.” I said as I hung up the phone.  I yawned as the smell of cooking hamburger drifted to me from the kitchen.  I slipped on my shoes and ran a brush through my hair and stepped out to find the boys demolishing enormous cheese burgers. Butch waited patiently by the table for any scraps that might fall his way.

“You're up!  Have a nice nap?”

“Much better.”

Leo pulled a plate out of the cupboard to make me a burger.

“Looks wonderful.  Could you wrap it up for me?  Rocky needs me at the paper for a picture. If you could take the boys to the fireworks, I’ll meet you there.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? Just tell him no.”

“I tried that but he says he has information on my dad.” Leo handed me sandwich in a paper towel.  I took a bite and headed out to my car.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Ten minutes later as I smiled for the camera with Pecan Bayou’s newest Miss Watermelon, I had to wonder what Rocky had up his sleeve. He had lured me down here on the premise of something new in my father’s investigation, but waiting out the picture session felt like an eternity.

“Well, ladies. That ought to do it,” he said finally.

Mellie Nicholson took little Nora by the shoulders and reached out and shook my hand. “I just want to thank you for your in-depth questioning. Without it, we never would have had a chance. This week has been so dramatic for us, what with Noodle’s being gunned down in the street and now this. I can remember a poem from my English class years ago. I think it was Cheney who said, ‘The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.’ We have certainly experienced the rainbow today.”

“I’m just glad it’s all over,” Nora said.

“Nora!”

“Well, Grandma, you have to admit this whole pageant thing is a lot of work.”

“Yes, but it’s a labor of love, right, sweetheart?”

Nora shifted on one foot and then shot a glance at her grandmother. “If you say so. When are you going to get another dog?”

Mrs. Nicholson reached down and put her arms around Nora. “As soon as the kennel opens. I think you’ve earned it.”

“Thanks again,” she said, and the two finally exited.

“Who’d have thought Mrs. Nicholson would know poetry?” Rocky laughed.

“Hey, lots of people have a hidden cultural side. You can never tell,” I said, remembering the book of poems Hunter Grayson had penned. I had forgotten to give the little journal to my dad.

“So what have you found out about my dad’s case?”

“You get straight to the point Betsy, and that’s why I love editing your work. It’s like a vacation for me.”

“Thank you, I try my best.”

“Rocky went to his desk at the back of the room and pulled up a screen on his computer. “Did you know that Libby Loper owns the Bonnet Farm?”

“Old news, Rocky. I know and the police know.”

“Did you know that Charlie Loper is buried out there?”

“That’s not what I heard,” I said. “I was always told he was buried out in California with all the other dead movie cowboys.”

“That’s what they told everyone, but really there’s just a headstone in California,” Rocky said. “Charlie is buried out in the trees beyond the fields. I guess the old boy got uncomfortable around crowds, so his final wishes were to be buried on his ranch.”

“Land, lots of land under starry skies above, right?” I said. “So how does all this help my dad?”

“It doesn’t, but I did hear that Libby Loper went out to the farm to check out the property and they were not exactly welcoming to her. She wanted to walk the property line and visit her dad’s grave, and they wouldn’t allow it. Now Libby is threatening to evict them.”

“Okay, and how does this exactly help my dad?”

“Don’t you see? They have something to hide out there. If Libby does get out there and discovers something, then it could make your dad’s case look like a yelping dog complaint. Whatever they’re doing out there, it’s big.”

“I have a pretty good idea, although I’m not sure exactly where. Hunter Grayson had a bag of pot in his pocket. A bag with a piece of blue plastic in it. I had seen that blue plastic one other place.”

Rocky’s police scanner went off in the background. “10-51. Loper vehicle, tires slashed.” George’s voice said over the static-filled airwaves.

“Looks like the battle goes on, Betsy. How much you wanna bet the Bonnets’ slashed her tires?” Rocky grabbed his keys and his camera and started for the door. “Lock the door on your way out.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

As the sun slowly set in the Texas heat, I made my way to the fireworks. My time at Rocky’s office had made me late to meet Leo and the boys. I pulled into the field that served as a parking lot, which was nearly full already. I realized I had never brought the box from Libby Loper’s house out of my car. The book of Hunter’s poetry was still perched at the top of the heap. I thought about putting the journal in my purse but found it wouldn’t fit. I didn’t want to carry it around all night, so I would try to pull Dad over tonight and talk to him.

Leo also said he wanted to talk to me. I just hoped that he wasn’t about to tell me it was over between us. If he could just understand that it all started with the dog and trying to keep my son happy. From there we had a murder, and from there somebody shooting pistols but never hitting anything but a dog. Surely he’d had other girlfriends who had found themselves in trouble from time to time.

I walked over to the field, where I found Leo spreading a blanket on the ground. The boys collapsed onto it as soon as it hit the grass.

“Look at the stars, Zach. I think I can see the Big Dipper.”

“That’s Scorpio, boys. Can’t you see its distinctive tail?” Leo corrected.

The joys of hanging out with a meteorologist. Leo outlined the shape of a scorpion with his finger as both boys emitted an appreciative “cool.” He smiled, making the little crows feet appear around his eyes. Why did men look handsome and distinguished with that kind of thing and women just looked tired? Zach struggled with a juice box, and Leo still gazing at the stars, put his hand out for it and inserted the flimsy straw into the top. No doubt about it, this was quite a guy.

He suddenly looked over, aware of my surveillance and tilted his eyes to the side. “The stars are usually further up than that, Betsy.”

Smartass. “I knew that.” So why did this guy have to be so darn frustrating?

“Betsy, let’s sit over here.” He pointed to the remainder of the blanket left from the boys stretching out to look at the stars. “We need to talk.”

Oh boy, this couldn’t be good. Don’t people start a breakup with those kinds of words?

I scooted onto the blanket, and he pulled me in next to him. Well, this couldn’t be too bad, I thought as I felt his arms go around and I leaned back in perfect comfort. This was better than any La-Z-Boy recliner I’d ever sat in. I sighed and felt myself relaxing. I could always be mad at him tomorrow.

“So, I was thinking the other night.”

“Good.”

“About us and this uh, rough patch we’ve been going through.”

Uh oh, here it came.

“Betsy!” Danny came stumbling onto the blanket, nearly knocking Leo and me over. “Fireworks, Betsy! Where's Butch?”

“We left him home so he could crawl under the bed.  He's probably not going to like the fireworks.”  Leo said.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, you two.” Aunt Maggie was power-walking behind Danny, but he had outdistanced her. She was holding a brown plaid blanket and a small cooler. “Danny’s pretty excited.”

Leo laughed. “I can see that.”

Behind Maggie stood the tall, gangly Howard Gunther, the leader of the official Pecan Bayou Paranormal Society. He carried a black duffle bag in one hand and used his other hand to smooth back his thin white hair.

“Good evening, all.” Howard bowed.

“Howard! I haven’t seen you in while. How’s the world of ghosts?” Leo said.

Howard snorted. “If you are referring to my study of the paranormal, then I must tell you it’s fine.”

I nudged Aunt Maggie and whispered, “Is Howard your date?”

Her hand went to her ample bosom, “Oh, no my dear.” She giggled. “Howard is here in case we have a sighting of Charlie Loper. He ought to be able to authenticate any apparition we might encounter.”

I could do without a sighting of Charlie Loper, seeing as every time he showed up, he seemed to be shooting at me. I glanced across the crowd, now starting to settle down for the fireworks. Little Miss Watermelon sat in a customized lawn chair wearing her rhinestone-studded tiara and eating a Fudgsicle. Libby Loper had also found her way here, even with slashed tires. She was sitting with Ruby Green and a few of the other Hair House ladies, leaning up against the biggest drink cooler on the ground. A few blankets over, Ruby’s brother, Pastor Green, shot her a disapproving look as she laughed and popped the top on a Lone Star beer and waved him off. He smiled and walked over for a can, much to the dismay of his wife.

Farther up the field were Clay and Lina Bonnet. Clay sat upright, looking like he had better places to go. Lina poured him some soda out of a two-liter bottle, which he took begrudgingly. Next to them, Adam Cole sat alone. I hoped he wouldn’t come over. Leo had his arms around me, and I would hate to mess that up now. Cole started to rise, but then Elena came over and set down a plate of nachos. Adam’s gaze rose to her and then seemed to skirt across the sea of blankets to me. I quickly looked away, embarrassed at seeing this intimate moment. He probably thought I was pining for him to come join me on my blanket. I was pretty happy on my blanket with two preteen boys stretched out on it and me luxuriating against Leo’s warm chest. 

Allison walked by on the edge of the crowd. She was with another young woman whose arm was linked with hers. At a time like this, it was good she had a friend. The attempted murder of Dr. Springer was awful, and the fact that she was found dressed up like Charlie Loper didn’t help matters any. Had Jean Springer been masquerading as the ghost of Charlie Loper? If so, why? What was in it for her? The two girls walked by, and Allison waved at our group gathered on the blanket. Danny looked up from his snack assortment and waved hard enough to stir up a breeze.

“Hey Danny,” she said but didn’t linger to talk. I wondered if Allison was avoiding Danny. Luckily, for Danny just saying “hello” was quite enough to make him happy. He beamed at her as she walked away.

Mayor Obermeyer came out in front of the crowd waving a handheld microphone.

“Okay folks, we are about to start our fireworks show here tonight. Before we begin, if I could have everyone stand and place their hands over their hearts to sing our national anthem. We will be accompanied by the summer school session of the Pecan Bayou High School marching band. Seeing as it’s fairly dark, though, they won’t be marching tonight,” he reassured us.

We all scrambled to our feet as I heard a slightly flat clarinet play a note to tune the band. When the band was ready, we all joined in like we always had before basketball, football and baseball games in this town. Zach and Tyler were standing between me and Leo, mouthing the words of the song, the pureness of patriotism flowing while they jabbed each other with their elbows. I leaned over to tell Zach to cut it out when I was pushed into them by someone rushing through the crowd. The smell of cheap aftershave filled my nostrils.

“Out of my way, bitch.” Coop Bonnet slunk off into the people still singing along.

“He’s not going to get away with that,” Leo said, starting off after him.

“No, it’s okay.” I placed my hand on his arm. “He’s just angry about my dad arresting him.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to treat you that way.”

“I said it’s okay.” Leo huffed and stepped back beside me, moving the boys over. He placed his arm protectively around my waist, and again I felt comfortable almost as if I had been standing in the embrace of this man for my entire life.

From about forty feet away, I saw a familiar sparkle. Lights on the park gazebo were catching the light of something.  It was happening again. 

“Get down!” I shouted. No one could hear me over the group singing. “Get down!” I pulled Leo and the boys down to the blanket, making everyone around us stop singing.

“Gun!” I yelled.

Screams rang out, and people everywhere started picking up their blankets and coolers and running for the trees.

“It’s the ghost of Charlie Loper!” Mr. Simmons cried out.

“Oh hell,” I heard my father say. We picked up our various belongings, and as I glanced over I could see Danny trying to put each and every item he had so painstakingly set out back into the cooler. Aunt Maggie was pulling at him trying to get him to move. Howard must have already run for cover.  Leo and I exchanged glances.  He grabbed the boys and I made my way through the crowd to Danny's blanket.

“Come on, Danny. We have to go,” I said.

“We can’t go. The fireworks haven’t happened.”

“I know, but we have to go.” The field was almost completely cleared. There was only one thing missing. Where was the shooter? I had never actually seen a gun, just the sparkle that always came right before it. Had I reacted to something as silly as an errant firefly or someone’s glow-in-the-dark wand? I noticed people standing on the edges of the field looking out at me with the same question playing across their faces. I had thrown a panic, and the bad guy never showed up. It was the equivalent to yelling “Fire!” in a crowded theater.

Coop Bonnet emerged from the edge of the crowd and walked toward Danny. I wasn’t sure if he was there to help or to just beat the living tar out of him. “Come on, Danny. Let’s go over here for a minute before the fireworks. Okay?”

Danny pushed his glasses up on his nose. He reached up for Coop. “Okay,” he agreed, letting himself be pulled up by the hand. He still held on tight to his box of Rice Krispie treats with the other hand. They started walking toward the crowd, where a faint clap went up. Coop put his arm around Danny and talked to him in a whisper. Danny kept nodding his head and then smiled at him. Maybe Coop wasn’t all that bad. I didn’t even know he knew Danny.

Then it was quiet as the crowd looked around for the ghostly appearance of Charlie. The quiet continued, but still nothing happened. I had been wrong.

“Betsy!” I turned around and saw my dad standing there, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “Why in the hell would you yell ‘gun’ in the middle of a crowd of people?”

“I thought I saw one.” I returned to Danny who was looking up at Coop and smiling. “I saw the sparkle.” I said feeling foolish.

Dad started to speak and then stopped himself. I could tell he was mentally trying to pull it together rather than what doing he really wanted to do.

“A sparkle? You cleared a crowd because you saw a sparkle?”

“Dad, you have to understand. Each time before the gun went off I saw something sparkling, followed by a cloud of smoke.”

“It was the ghost of Charlie Loper!” Mr. Simmons yelled from the edge of the field. The crowd nodded in agreement.

Howard stepped out, holding up a small recording device.

“Charlie? Are you here Charlie? Do you have something to tell us?” He paused between each sentence so that Charlie could have time to speak from another plane of existence.

“Dammit! You people are crazy. I was better off on drugs!” Libby Loper stepped out from the crowd. “My daddy is not back from the dead, and if he was, he sure as hell was a better shot than the one that’s shooting at you idiots.”

“It’s the sparkle,” continued Mr. Simmons. “Don’t you know, your daddy wore them sparkly-looking chaps and vests. He walked into my store back in ’57, and I darn near had to turn the overhead lights down, he was glitterin’ so.” His audience was visibly entertained.

“You see what you’ve started,” Dad said. He raised his hands to the crowd. “Folks, we’ve been through quite a bit these last few days, so Betsy here might have jumped the gun.”

He would have to say that word.

“I don’t see any shooters out there, so why don’t we just relax and enjoy our fireworks?” he continued.

“I second the motion,” Mayor Obermeyer added.

People started back out onto the field, many of them shooting me surly looks. Who knows, I thought. I might have saved somebody’s life – or at least some unsuspecting poodle’s life.

“Betsy, keep an eye on Danny,” said Aunt Maggie. “Howard and I are going to do some investigative work. Just listen to this.”

She held up the tiny digital recorder to my ear. I could clearly hear Howard’s voice. “Charlie Loper? Can you hear me? Please speak to us.” After that, I heard crackly white noise and then an indistinguishable “frmmp.”

“Frmmp? What is that?” I said.

“You just don’t know how to listen with a practiced ear,” said Howard. “It is clear to me that he is saying ‘dump.’ He wants us to meet him at the dump.”

I raised my eyebrows. Charlie Loper is hanging out with the trash and he wants my aunt to meet him there?

“I don’t think so, Aunt Maggie. I know I have an unpracticed ear, but I sure didn’t pick up ‘meet me at the dump,’” I said.

“Nevertheless, we might not get a chance like this again, especially if he chooses to cross into the light. Can Danny stay with you?”

Fireworks started going off behind us.

“Um, sure. No problem. He can come and sit with us on our blanket to watch the fireworks.” I glanced around to see him sitting cross-legged on his blanket, now drinking an orange soda.

“No, he said he wanted to sit on our blanket.” Aunt Maggie cupped her hand to her mouth and whispered, “He got to pack his own snack, and he’s not feeling like sharing tonight.”

I smiled. “Gotcha,” I said.

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